


Can You Play Any Other Tunes?

by al_fletcher, athenril_of_kirkwall (al_fletcher)



Series: Siân Trevelyan (and the Skyhold Crew) [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Accidental Bardic Performance, Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, F/M, Hair Kink, Halamshiral (Dragon Age), Performance Art, Prompt Fill, The Winter Palace (Dragon Age), Tumblr Prompt, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26295442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/al_fletcher/pseuds/al_fletcher, https://archiveofourown.org/users/al_fletcher/pseuds/athenril_of_kirkwall
Summary: Sian Trevelyan gets bored at the Winter Palace. Very bored.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford
Series: Siân Trevelyan (and the Skyhold Crew) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939525
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10
Collections: DA Drunk Writing Circle Prompt Fics





	Can You Play Any Other Tunes?

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for f!Trevelyan/Cullen, "Glass, Bliss, Gesture"

_The Winter Palace_

“And for the last time, it’s just common styling oil! You can find it at any corner shop in a big town!”, Cullen complained, staring through the eyeholes of an Orlesian mask at a noblewoman who was still in awe at his hairdo even as she scurried off.

Sian walked over, back in the garishly red costume Josephine had picked out for all the Inquisition members who’d turned up. “Is there a problem?”

“Nothing beyond the usual gaggle of admirers, Maker help me,” he said. “So, were you able to find out more about— _is that a cut under your eye?!_ ”

She reflexively felt for it, commenting, “Oh, is that still obvious? I thought we’d cleaned it up enough after that last fight. Exactly who we were expecting.”

Cullen gulped down the wine from his goblet, murmuring, “So it _is_ true then. Agents of…well…our foe, crawling all over the Winter Palace. I take it you’re back here to keep up appearances, then?”

“And have a drink. Maker knows I need one after cleaving through half a dozen of them. What’s that you’ve got there?”

He picked his goblet up, swirling the wine around as though appraising it, saying, “According to the manservant it’s their best vintage of ‘Flames of Our Lady’. Tastes about as acrid as any other wine, and leaves as much of an aftertaste.”

She picked it up, staring at the vessel quizzically. “I do wonder…”

“Yes?”

“For such a fine wine, why _are_ they serving it in a metal cup?”

Cullen’s eyebrows pinched together, reacting as though she was talking about a subject as alien to their current situation as, say, the Breach. “Whatever do you mean, Inquisitor?”

Sian swirled the wine in the goblet, explaining, “Generally speaking, wine is served in glass, or crystal, seeing as that doesn’t affect its taste. It’d be like eating the rarest shellfish from the Rialto Bay off a clay bowl.”

“Your, ah, noble side is showing,” Cullen wryly commented.

Taking a sip of his wine, she said, “Apologies. But then again, look where we are. _Maker_ that’s the good stuff.”

“I’m quite aware,” Cullen said. “I believe it had something to do with a precaution against poisoning, with the goblets being lined with silverite or something to that effect.”

“So _that’s_ where all the ore in Emprise du Lion was going? What a massive waste. Look at all the shelves and crannies! Some of the most finely crafted flutes and glasses in Orlais, from Val Foret to Verchiel, and they’re pouring the best wine in kingdom into _silverite_!”, she complained. “Look, if they’re going to keep casting gemstones before livestock, we might as well…we might as well…”

A _certain_ glint shone in her eyes as she trailed off, leaning over the table to whisper in Cullen’s ear. “If you could distract that manservant for a moment there by asking him for a bottle of something less expensive…”

“Now _what_ exactly are you planning?”, he asked suspiciously.

She gazed into his hazel eyes, and him her pale jade ones in response, asking, “You do trust me, don’t you?”

“I trust you with the fate of the world,” he answered, “but _not_ always to behave yourself.”

“I promise not to break anything,” Sian said innocently.

“Andraste forgive me for what I’m about to do…”, Cullen said, rolling his eyes as he walked off to fetch a manservant, shouting, “ _Sieur!_ ”

By the time he returned with a bottle of 8:69 Blessed, Sian had laid out all of the glasses she’d pointed out on the little round table where they’d been conversing, and was rubbing her gloved hands gingerly.

She turned to Cullen. “Oh, brilliant! Here, pass it to me.”

“Now what in the Maker are you…”, he said, before she practically snatched the bottle out of his hands, filling the glasses to various levels, then taking off her gloves, first dipping her fingertips in the wine, then gliding them along their rims.

“Shh,” she said, “I’m…calibrating them.”

“Calibrating them for _what?_ ”, Cullen asked, confused.

“Hang on just a moment…” Sian said, transferring wine from some of the glasses to others, sipping some out to lower the level manually in others, then laying them out roughly from empty to filled, before cracking her knuckles and dipping her fingers into the fullest one.

After a few more moments of preparation, the first lines of ‘Empress of Fire’ started sounding through the hallways, causing some conversations to die in silence, as she harped them on the glasses, rubbing the rims of the crystal in just the right order and timing to play the familiar tune, glancing up once every so often at Cullen to see his reaction.

Cullen stood rooted to the floor, first in horror at the audacity of what she was doing, then in slight appreciation of her performance in that she was at least hitting all the right notes, then back in horror that _she still wasn’t done, and people were starting to stare_.

Finally, she finished the last few notes, and took a ceremonious bow to absolutely no applause, instead facing a corridor full of bemused Orlesians and a mildly annoyed Cullen, who’d crossed his arms across his broad chest.

“I’m _not_ clapping for you,” he grumbled.

Sian’s lip curled into a smirk. “Come on, you can’t deny that was at least _slightly_ impressive. I’d say that was much better use of both their wine _and_ glasses than anything else tonight, that’s for sure.”

“How ever did you learn that, anyway? Was it just _that_ boring in the chateau of the Trevelyans?”, he asked.

“Something like that,” Sian shrugged, as she drained the least filled glass before moving onto the next one.

Cullen reached for one she hadn’t dipped her fingers into, turning the rim to a clean side before gulping it down. “Next time, _please_ warn me before your next virtuoso performance. At least it’ll give me time to deny all knowledge of your intentions and depart the premises.”

“Maybe I’ll try ‘Sera Was Never’ after this,” Sian teased.

“ _You wouldn’t dare._ ”

Sian shrugged. “Well, not right now, now that I’ve gone and ruined my instruments.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Cullen said, clinking his next glass against hers as they proceeded to work their way through the bottle.

[Court Approval -5]

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: https://athenril-of-kirkwall.tumblr.com/post/628383964998008832/


End file.
